


from ash and broken glass

by wintersrose616



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Cindered Shadows DLC Spoilers, Glenn Fraldarius Lives, M/M, Panic Attacks, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:21:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22742410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintersrose616/pseuds/wintersrose616
Summary: His face is scarred along the right side, disappearing under the collar of his high-necked shirt. His eyes, familiarly blue, dart over their group, narrowing slightly before he continues on. Dimitri feels like his chest might burst, and he swallows the lump in his throat.Piercing green eyes are watching him when he looks back to the group. Claude tilts his head, expression unreadable, before he turns back to the man leading them through Abyss."Yuri, who was that man? With the scars?”“Oh, him?” Yuri waves his hand nonchalantly. “You don’t need to worry about him. He’s been here awhile—longer than I have. Doesn’t remember anything before he wound up down here, either, but he helps the guards with patrols when his old injury isn’t acting up.”.Underneath Garreg Mach, people from all kinds of backgrounds live in Abyss. Dimitri meets one that he recognizes, one that should be nothing more than a ghost.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Glenn Fraldarius
Comments: 30
Kudos: 194





	from ash and broken glass

**Author's Note:**

> basement Glenn time??  
> basement Glenn time
> 
> based on [eggyanke's](https://twitter.com/eggyankee) Glenn Lives AU on twitter!

Their footsteps echo on the stone floor, the flickering lanterns lighting their way. Dimitri’s eyes wander about as they’re led through the winding pathways. The professor is up front next to the Ashen Wolf house leader, Edelgard a step behind them. Dimitri stays at the back, assessing the people they pass to make sure none of them are threats. While most of the ones they pass stare, he cannot sense any ill-will from them, just mild curiosity as to why there’s now a cluster of people from the surface being touted around. Ashe stays close to Dimitri while they follow Yuri, his eyes darting around, too, but he seems to be taking in the architecture instead of assessing possible threats.

It is awe-inspiring, how vast and sprawling this underground cavern is. He wonders how it could’ve been built, how long its inhabitants have been under the monastery. They pass the small market, where there are a couple children playing with swords made of wooden sticks. He lifts a hand, curling his fingers over his chest as fragmented memories of his own childhood fill him. 

“It’s amazing,” Ashe murmurs, softly.

Dimitri glances to him, sees his gaze on the children as well, a small smile on his face. He looks to Dimitri, startling slightly, his smile turning sheepish as he turns away.

“It just—it seems impossible, doesn’t it, Your Highness?”

Dimitri nods. “Indeed,” he manages, his voice caught in his throat.

Up ahead of him, he can hear Edelgard asking Yuri questions, rapidfire. The professor looks back at him and Ashe, nodding when they see they’re still following dutifully. In front of them, Hilda and Claude are bent close to one another, whispering their questions to one another, with Hilda’s eyes straying to Balthus more often than not.

He could imagine many things happening with the monastery, with the church itself, but this underground home was something out of a children’s folktale.

Dimitri supposes that a children’s folktale is exactly why it happens.  
His eyes catch on movement. He’s been on edge since they had first entered the underground path that lead to Abyss, his instincts telling him he must stay vigilant. Those instincts do nothing for him when he sees the man that walks in front of them, heading towards where the Wilting Rose Inn is. Yuri boasts it holds Abyss’ worst alcohol. The man seems intent on his chosen path to head there, hair tied up in a tail that falls down the length of his back in black waves that he flicks over his shoulder as he walks right in front of them, ignoring them all.

Dimitri stops walking. The first thing his mind supplies, helpfully, is: _he’s shorter than Felix._ Any other thought he could have, hopefully more rational, is stopped short by Ashe bumping into him, having not noticed that Dimitri was now standing still.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, Your Highness!”

“No, Ashe, it’s not—. It’s my fault, truly, I’m sorry.” Dimitri can barely manage to tear his gaze away to look at Ashe while he apologises, and when he turns back, the man is looking at him. His face is scarred along the right side, disappearing under the collar of his high-necked shirt. His eyes, familiarly blue, dart over their group, narrowing slightly before he continues on. Dimitri feels like his chest might burst, and he swallows the lump in his throat.

Piercing green eyes are watching him when he looks back to the group. Claude tilts his head, expression unreadable, before he turns back to the man leading them through Abyss.

"Yuri, who was that man? With the scars?”

Dimitri lets out a shaky exhale, pushing his hand through his hair. The relief that someone else was asking after him makes his hands feel unsteady.

“Oh, him?” Yuri waves his hand nonchalantly. “You don’t need to worry about him. He’s been here awhile—longer than I have. Doesn’t remember anything before he wound up down here, either, but he helps the guards with patrols when his old injury isn’t acting up.” 

“He looks like he’s seen battle,” comments Edelgard and Dimitri wishes she would have said _anything_ else. Anything that didn’t involve her commenting on who Dimitri thinks that man was.

“That scar looks like a Thoron hit him,” Linhardt supplies, covering his mouth as he speaks through his yawn.

Yuri shrugs. “He was brought here by church knights, apparently, with his injuries. Everyone thinks he was disgraced.”

Dimitri bites down on the inside of his cheek to stop himself from lashing out. It was a mistake. His mind is making him think he’s seen things he _wants_ to see. His heart is pounding in his chest, blood rushing through his ears.

“Your Highness?” Ashe’s voice, timid at his side. “Are you alright?”

The others have moved on past them, but Ashe stays at his elbow. Dimitri swallows, takes in a deep breath, and exhales it, slowly. He tries to compose himself as best as he can. He looks to where the man had disappeared before turning back to his companion, nodding. “I am. Apologies. Let’s catch up with the others.”

****

.

Dimitri decides he’s imagined him. Not the man—the others had seen him, so he obviously _exists_ —but the familiarity of his face, his eyes, his expression. There has not been a single day since Duscur where he has not thought of those he lost. He misses them so much that it’s possible his mind is playing tricks on him. The darkness down here, lit with hazy orange candlelight, could have made Dimitri see anything.

_He doesn’t remember._

That was what Yuri had said. The man didn’t remember his past.

Dimitri remembers. Dimitri can taste the ash on his tongue, can hear the screams of those that he lost.

_They never recovered a body._

He tells himself it doesn’t matter. The chances, they’re so slim that it is nearly impossible.

_Nearly, but not quite._

If a city could exist under the grounds of the monastery, who is to say that an injured knight could not have been brought here after the Tragedy. 

He wishes Dedue was with him, so that he might tell him these thoughts. Instead, he is left on his own as the professor takes their fill of Abyss. He wanders the streets around the inn and the small marketplace, telling himself he needs to stop ruminating on these things. He knows that following those thoughts always lead to bad things, things that he cannot control. Still, regardless of anything logical he tries to counter them with, his thoughts run rampant.

His hands are shaking. Clenching them into fists at his side does nothing to quell the tremors.

 _Breathe,_ he tells himself. He tries to command himself. _Breathe._

Dimitri feels like he’s choking. Every breath that he manages to inhale feels like a punch to his lungs. There’s no one else down the path he takes, the sound of his breathing echoing harshly off the stones in the otherwise quiet. He’s focusing too hard on trying to calm himself that he’s working himself up into a higher panic.

Perhaps he should’ve stayed with Ashe, and went to ask the residents how they feel about being—

The toe of his boot catches on a loose brick. Dimitri stumbles, tripping over his feet. His knees collide with the ground, his hands smacking against the stones in front of him. There’s only a small register of pain in his joints at the impact against the ground. It’s not enough to distract him out of his spiralling thoughts.

Dimitri stares at his hands, watches as they blur with the tears that are burning against his eyes. He curls them against the stone, fists weak. His entire body feels like it’s going to collapse.

A shadow falls over him. He knows he needs to move, needs to gather a weapon. Yuri had told them not to be defenseless down here, and here he was, in a vulnerable state.

A hand rests on his shoulder. His vision is still blurry and he blinks away tears as someone kneels in front of him.

“It’s alright.” The voice that speaks is gravelly, low timbre. The sound of it prickles at the edge of Dimitri’s memories. “Breathe. It’s alright.”

Dimitri is shaking like a newborn foal. He looks up, his eyes welling with fresh tears. His mouth forms a syllable, one his voice cannot form, caught up in his throat. The man’s eyes are sharp, a blue that he hasn’t seen since he had last seen Felix’s father. There’s the smallest pinch between his brows, the slightest sign of concern.

He had always been sarcastic in his caring ways. Always teasing as he wiped their tears away.

There is none of that here, not now. Dimitri manages a sobbed noise that could’ve been mistaken for a name.

Something flashes over the man’s face, an emotion Dimitri can’t parse in his addled state.

His features grow soft. “C’mere.”

Dimitri knows he should not willingly allow a stranger to wrap him up in their arms. He has no idea if he can trust his own eyes right now, let alone his mind, but it feels so safe when the man tugs him to his chest. Hands brush over Dimitri’s shoulders, one going up to his hair, the other trailing soft patterns down his spine. That voice, a voice Dimitri has heard in nightmares and dreams alike over the past four years, coos soft, sweet nothings, breath rustling Dimitri’s hair against his forehead.

For his part, all Dimitri can do is sob, trying to catch his breath and suppress this outburst.

“Breathe, breathe,” the man murmurs, a soft mantra. “You’ll be alright.”

It takes monumental effort for the tears to stop, for his breathing to turn into hiccupped sounds. The hand in his hair continues, fingers not quite closing against his scalp, but the motion is soothing in of itself.

“There we go,” he says. “There, you’re alright, little lion.”

The petname falls on his ears, and with it, comes the feeling of icy water being turned over his head. He makes a choked noise. The man tenses, before relaxing and resuming his strokes through his hair.

“Sorry—I didn’t mean to overstep. That name seems fitting for you, though.” A snort that ruffles his bangs. “I don’t know why.”

Dimitri pulls back, just slightly, wiping at his face. The hands that had been on him fall away, and he misses the contact, even though he’s still all but draped in this stranger’s lap.

“Here.”

The man proffers a handkerchief. Dimitri takes it. His voice is thick and muddled when he murmurs a tiny, _“Thank you.”_

When he glances up, the resemblance is still uncanny. He quickly looks away. Perhaps he should’ve made Ashe fetch Felix before they came to Abyss. Felix would never lie about something like this. He couldn’t imagine how Felix would react, but Dimitri tells himself it has to be him, even if everything logical he knows tells him otherwise.

The man watches him with an expression that reminds Dimitri of the professor. Devoid of any emotion, save for his eyes, where Dimitri can see gentleness in the blue depths when he chances another glance up.

After a moment, he sighs, reaching out. Dimitri doesn’t startle, almost leans into the touch to his cheek, thumb brushing under his eye. “This isn’t a safe place for someone with a heart as gentle as yours.”

“I—.” Dimitri cannot get his mind in working order to form words. His throat seizes on him, too. He takes in a deep, shaky breath. Holds it as he counts, then exhales. “I am sorry, to have troubled you so.”

A small, amused smile twitches the man’s lips. He takes his hand away, brushing some of the loose strands that had fallen from his tied up hair behind his ear. “It’s no trouble. Don’t apologise. You seemed like you needed that.”

Dimitri has nothing to say to that. He looks away, down to his lap, then across to the man’s. His other hand rests limply on his thigh, and Dimitri can’t help his stare at the scarred skin of his palm, fingers slightly curled.

 _He did this to save you,_ a voice in his head whispers. _He suffered and died and came back and you think you possibly deserve this kindness he’s given you?_

“A Thoron blast,” the man says, and Dimitri feels himself flush at being caught staring. “At least that’s the assumption. I can’t remember anything before waking up down here.”

“A Thoron blast.” Dimitri sounds miserable and he wipes at his face with the cloth.

“Mm-hmm.” There’s a slight amusement to the quirk of his lips. “You look sad about that. I don’t remember the pain, it’s alright.”

“Yuri said your injuries bother you still.”

A shrug, an elegant movement, practiced. “I can’t close my right hand fully, and it’s numb, but it doesn’t impede my sword handling.”

Dimitri makes a noise. It’s half-part laugh, half-part ragged choke. “A leftie. . .”

A smirk curls his lips, playful but challenging all at once. “You think that’s a weakness?”

Dimitri shakes his head. He feels _tired._ His panic attack and subsequent crying fit had left him feeling weak-hearted. “Not at all. My. . .friend’s older brother was a left-handed swordsman. One of the best I knew.”

“I’m sure I could beat him on my good days,” he states, and Dimitri wants to laugh at that.

It is such a _Glenn_ statement. To be arrogant about being able to defeat himself.

“Perhaps.” Dimitri tries to clear his throat, ends up coughing into his elbow for a bit. The man pats his shoulder in comfort. “What—? What should I call you? I owe you my thanks for this, I should know your name.”

Another elegant shrug. “I don’t have one. Don’t need one, down here.” Before Dimitri can comment on that, he rises to his feet, proffering his sword hand down to him. “Come, little lion, I know where your other surface dwellers are, I’ll bring you to them.”

Dimitri takes his hand, helping himself up on his feet. His knees feel wobbly, and the man just holds his hand to keep him steady as he leads him down the candlelight corridors. Dimitri stands taller than him, knows Felix would as well, side by side. In his memories, he always remembers looking _up_ at him, never down.

Though he supposes he never thought he would have the chance to look at him again.

“I—. I do not mind if you call me that,” Dimitri says, his mouth refusing to speak the petname, “but my name is Dimitri.”

He hears the sharp inhale in front of him, sees the tensing of his shoulders, feels the hand in his grip tighter. It seems he has to forcibly relax himself as they continue walking, hair swishing down his back as he shakes his head.

“Dimitri,” the man says, word soft. He turns to peer at him, eyes narrowing as he looks him over. After a moment he huffs, shaking his head once more as he turns back. “I think _little lion_ fits you better.”

The smile that curls Dimitri’s lips at that feels like the first genuine smile he’s had in a long, long time.

“From you, I think so as well.”

**Author's Note:**

> i couldn't stop thinking about this last night and spent a solid portion writing out notes in my memos app on my phone when i should have been sleeping. 
> 
> i'm on [twitter](https://twitter.com/wintersrose616), if you want to stop by and chat!


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